From: an265659@anon.penet.fi
Reply-To: an265659@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sat, 13 May 1995 03:52:53 UTC
Subject: Story: Virtual Muscle (mmm..., muscle growth)
Here's a story for all you freaky muscle junkies. Enjoy.
E-mail me and let me know what you think.
Virtual Muscle
It is rare when one can combine all of his passions at one time,
but with the refinements I had just completed on my virtual reality unit, I
just may be able to.
My passions? Computers, sex and muscle...
...but not necessarily in that order.
My passion for computers exhibited itself through an advanced degree
in computer science with a concentration on virtual reality and artificial
intelligence programming; for sex, as a young, horny, red- blooded gay
man; and for muscle, as a throw-back, unapologetic, pumped-up,
muscle-junkie-freak. I had perhaps the only surviving, and certainly the
largest, collection of bodybuilding magazines and videos from the last half
of the twentieth century and one of the only practitioners of the sport left,
much to my sexual frustration.
I had made the breakthrough in allowing virtual depictions that were
synthesized and extrapolated from existing information creating realities
that had never existed before rather than merely reproducing stored
images. Not only was synthesis possible for external stimuli but internal
ones as well. And, I hoped, that with the vast library I had collected of
gay pornography and images of the old sport of bodybuilding, I could
create any combination of images and sensations that I desired.
The programming became easier and easier as I downloaded the
libraries of images. With each new set of videos or set of scanned
images I found, it seemed as if the computer knew what I wanted and
was prepared to give it to me. But then, that _is_ what I was
programming it for. I found and culled huge amounts of fiction to inform
the machine of the fantasies I prefered and of course I wrote many,
many scenarios of the sorts of situations and men I liked.
Finally all the bugs were fixed and I was ready to test some of VR
scenarios I had created. I started with a simple, unaugmented scene out
of 1970s Venice Beach, or as I prefered, Muscle Beach. I entered the
scene near the weight pit and called for a random set of people to fill out
the scene. As the various muscle men and onlookers appeared, I started
a workout. I had entered the fantasy without any personal
embellishments to my body or any of the more surreal aspects that I had
programmed into my virtual reality program. As a practioner of the sport
of bodybuilding, I had a large, defined physique, more muscular than
anyone I knew but not as big as the men populating my fantasy.... and I
was starting out slowly.
As my workout progressed, I garnered many admirers who shyly
admired my body and subtly cruised. My program was running
flawlessly. I left the pit for the bathroom and the muscle man I desired
followed me. I went to a urinal to take a piss, my anticipation causing me
to get hard as I knew the bodybuilder was approaching. He stepped up
to the urinal beside me and without any pretense of pissing himself, just
stared at my dick and my body.
"You dig my body, man?" I asked, having studied the dialect.
"Yeah, man, you're fuckin' huge! I'll do anything for you, if I can touch
you."
I turned toward him and let him at my now hard cock. (Again,
unaugmented, but I had plans.) He looked a little nervous, but I pushed
him to his knees assuring him that we wouldn't be disturbed. And we
wouldn't be, unless I desired.
He was a damn good cocksucker and I indulged myself on his
muscles, feeling his hardness, telling him to flex first his arms and
shoulders, then his lats and chest. His hands were running over my body
as well, feeling my muscles, moaning when I flexed for him and working
that much harder on my dick. When I was getting close to cumming, I
had him hit a double biceps posed as I fucked his face. Hard biceps
under my hands and a mouth on my dick, man! I blew my load as he
pumped his guns, big muscle flexing and relaxing under my hands.
The VR program worked flawlessly so far and I was ready to try the
advanced features I had worked on so hard.
The bathroom and my friend disappeared as I desired and a well-
equiped gym of the late 1990s took form around me. I conceived of
appropriate clothing and took an appraising look in the mirrors that lined
the walls of the gym. The spandex tights gripped by body and the over-
sized t-shirt showed off my upper body. Now was the time to test some
of the augmentation subroutines I had come up with.
As I desired, a sense of raw strength filled my body and the small
amount of fat that I still carried disappeared. The mirrors reflected
instantly the changes I had envisioned. My program responded quickly
and smoothly to my desires and I took a deep breath and began to
indulge myself.
I hit a double biceps shot and admired my reflection. I now resembled
a heavy-weight bodybuilder, and now with the definition I had created,
certain to take any prize. I ran my tongue over my biceps and the
sensation coursed from the muscle to my dick and back again. With the
new subroutines, I could have an intense orgasm just by licking my hard
biceps muscle. Talk about intense. I resisted the urge to infuse my arms
with huge amounts of muscle and get off then and there.
I populated the gym with my favourite heavy-weight bodybuilders: Mike
Matarazzo, Paul Demayo, Mike Mentzer, Paul Dillet, Bob Paris, and Mike
Francois, just to name a few. Of course, they were in their best ever
shape when the were their biggest and hardest and they were working
out intensely trying to get bigger and harder. My muscle growth
subroutines allowed them to realize their goals at an incredible rate,
much faster than they had ever imagined and suffused the gym with
some intense homoerotisism and narcissism. After each set they would
pose in front of the mirrors. Matarazzo's biceps were pumped up to 23
inches and he couldn't get enough of watching his arms in the mirror.
Demayo finished a heavy set of squats and had almost ripped off his
shorts in his excitement in seeing his quads bigger than ever, incredibly
massive and defined.
I climbed on an incline bench and joined in the workout. I pumped out
100 situps as quick as I could, not without some grudging respect from
the bigger men. I moved then to a bench and started loading a bar.
Dillet was working with 300 hundred pounds, so I loaded on 400.
Slowly and methodically I pressed out a set of 8 intense reps. By this
time, all of the men had seen me and were shocked at what I was doing.
I continued with a very heavy-duty work out. I worked each body-part
and lifted incredible amounts of weight. My subroutines allowed me to lift
heavier and harder than any of the heavy-weights occupying the gym.
The huge bodybuilders were amazed at what I was doing and redoubled
their own efforts pumping up their bodies. Then I set my growth
subroutines to work on my muscles.
I felt an intense pump in every muscle and the fabric of my shirt
stretched almost to the breaking point. My abdominal muscles felt harder
as my growth subroutines kicked in making the cuts between my massive
six-pack deeper and deeper. My intercostals burst into high relief through
my shirt as the pump surged though my torso. I flexed my pecs and they
exploded through my shirt. I felt tears along my back, around my
shoulders and under my arms as the muscles grew and grew. My shirt
hung in tatters off my enormous body. I got up from the bench and tore
off the shredded shirt, revealing my pumped torso.
I gasped as I saw my reflection and the results of my subroutines
working overtime on my body. I had gained 50 pounds of freaky, defined
muscle and my chest and abs were massive and defined, my pecs
stretched the skin almost to the bursting point. My dick got hard again
and I wanted to play more with this!
The bodybuilders had taken their shirts off as well and were flexing and
pumping outrageously trying to get my attention. Ignoring them, I
grabbed the set of two hundred pound dumbells that I desired.
Staring at the mirror I watched myself blast out rep after rep of mind-
blowing curls, my biceps growing bigger and harder with each rep.
I slowed down the exercise and concentrated on my biceps, savouring
the sensations as the muscles swelled, the veins appearing and
expanding. My arms grew half an inch with each rep!
I was getting so excited as my shorts became tighter and tighter, my
legs growing massive in sympathy with my arms. My dick ached and grew longer.
I felt a surge in my thighs at the sight of Demayo coming up beside me and
flexing his quads. The harder Demayo flexed his legs, the bigger my legs
grew, my quads became insanely thick more than 35 inches around and shredded
to the bone. My dick throbbed with sensation and pleasure. My thighs
were stretching the spandex to the breaking point, the quad muscles and
veins were bulging obsenely over the contriction of the fabric. Then I
heard the fabric begin to tear as my thighs grew more and more
massive. I watched the tears shoot along my freaky quads towards my
waist. The shorts looked as if they had been run through a paper
shredder with only the waistband remaining intact. The massive
bodybuilders surrounded me, their own clothes in tatters, burst at the
seems by their freaky, shredded muscles flexing and growing.
As Paul Dillet moved toward me, flexing his outrageous muscles, I felt
myself growing as tall as he was but my muscles were already much much
more massive than his. Dillet flexed his pecs at my side and my chest
expanded hugely, the vascularity appearing like a relief map of the rocky
mountains, like a river flooding its banks. I caught a glimpse of Mike
Mentzer and suddenly my forearms were as vascular and thicker than
his.
Matarazzo flexed his biceps in the mirror and I dropped my dumbbells
as I felt the orgasmic sensation of my biceps swelling at the sight of all
that muscle, so much like the way my cock had always grew when I saw
biceps that monstrous, that massive. My cock, now harder than ever and
swelling to an insane 14 inches and stood straight out as I hit a double
biceps, my arms now much bigger than Matarazzo's, reaching 30 inches
around. Matarazzo began rubbing them and licking them, getting off on
the huge biceps like I had always wanted to do to him. I flexed and posed
in the mirror surrounded by bodybuilders that I had surpassed in size, in
definition, in sheer mass!
I was huge, well over 350 pounds of solid, defined freakazoid muscle.
My skin was practically see-though and veins covered my entire body.
All of my muscles bulged as if they would burst fhrough my skin.
My shoulders were the proverbial yard wide and then some, my massive
deltoids were like bowling balls. I ran my hand over my pecs and abs,
amazed at the thickness of my chest and the insane taper to my muscle
packed waist. My waist was still only 30 inches! My quads were
incredible, 40 massive inches and shredded to the bone with insane veins
barely contained by my thin skin. And my calves, man, they were huge,
over 28 inches of muscle flaring around my leg. I flexed my back and lats,
the muscles were like giant slabs of beef. I hit lat spread, and I just got
wider and wider and wider. I was taller than the men surrounding me,
heavier, more defined, more massive, more freaky.
They all began worshipping the body parts they had inspired, Demayo
my massive quads, Dillet my outrageous pecs and Matarazzo my huge
guns. My dick strained as Matarazzo sucked on my pumped arms, the
bicep job better than a blow job. My biceps reached 33" around, my
chest hit an amazing 70" and kept on expanding. Harder and harder they
rubbed and massaged my freaky massive muscles. I flexed and posed
and grew for them, hitting any pose they wanted, flexing the muscles
they wanted to worship. I revelled in the feeling of their hands on my
incredible muscles, their hard dicks grinding against me. Our moans filled
the gym getting louder and louder. Finally I could hold out no longer and
hit the most amazing, massive, outrageous most muscular pose ever
seen making the bodybuilders surrounding shoot their loads, showering
me with their hot cum. My muscles soaked up their muscle cum like
sponges and I grew and grew until I felt as if I would explode. I came with
a shout and a shudder that shook the gym like a earthquake, knocking
over the equipment, shattering the mirrors.
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